


Into the Woods

by fourteenlines



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: First Meetings, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:40:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22265746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourteenlines/pseuds/fourteenlines
Summary: "They did, you know. Burn witches at the stake."
Kudos: 2





	Into the Woods

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted circa 2007 for WIP amnesty, but it's a ficlet on its own.
> 
> The larger story was going to be mostly set in the Forbidden Forest, hence the title.

The first compartment he came to was filled with a sniveling, snot-nosed little girl, flame-red pigtail braids already mussed. Probably from throwing a tantrum on the platform. He coughed disdainfully, as he'd seen his father do many times before, and made to leave the doorway.  
  
Then the girl looked up, and he was startled to see a hint of steel in her Unforgivably green eyes. It moved him to say something it would never have occurred to him to say, under normal circumstances. "Don't cry."  
  
She sniffled noisily, a little shudder running through her body. "I'm not afraid. That's not why I'm crying." And then her lower lip trembled and she dissolved into a quivering mess once again.  
  
Severus reluctantly entered the compartment and closed the door. He put a simple locking spell on it, and hoped no one would notice. "If you'd been afraid, I wouldn't have cared whether you were crying."  
  
The girl laughed through a sob and blew her nose on a handkerchief embroidered with an 'L.' "It's just, my sister. I hate her. I _hate_ her."  
  
He sat down. He understood about hate. "Why does that make you cry?" He felt an odd sort of curiosity welling up inside him, perhaps from being on his own, really on his own for the first time.  
  
She shook her head. "She said - oh, it was awful. Mum and Dad weren't listening, and she pulled me aside and told me they'd burn me at the stake, because that's what they do to witches. Right before I ran through to the platform."  
  
Severus stilled with shock. "You're Muggle-born."  
  
"Well, of course I am!" she said, exasperated, and then hiccoughed.  
  
He was torn for a moment. On the one hand, he really should go about finding others of his class. On the other...  
  
"They did, you know. Burn witches at the stake."  
  
She rolled her eyes. The tears were finally drying, leaving her face streaky and red. "I know that. Of course I know that. They burnt Joan of Arc at the stake and she wasn't even a witch, they just thought she was--"  
  
"Wasn't she?" he interrupted.  
  
"Oh." She looked momentarily stunned. "I'd never thought of that." The girl quickly recovered, her brows furrowing. "But that isn't the point. Petunia didn't have to say it. She didn't have to say it like she was looking forward to it. I _hate_ her." The girl fell silent, obviously troubled. An errant tear rolled down her cheek. "I _hate_ her," she whispered.  
  
Severus felt an unwelcome desire to envelop the ridiculous girl in a hug. It appeared even Muggle families had their problems, an idea he'd never considered before.  
  
"I'm Severus," he said instead.  
  
She sniffed. "Lily."  
  
"Look, Lily, you'll probably be sorted into...Gryffindor, I think, and I'll probably be sorted into Slytherin. And then we won't be able to be friends."  
  
She blew her nose on the handkerchief again and frowned. "Who said we were going to be friends?"  
  
"Well. No one."  
  
"Besides, I think that's stupid. You should be friends with whoever you want to be friends with."  
  
"A typically Gryffindor attitude."  
  
Lily scowled, all traces of tears gone. "Oh, what do you know about it? You've probably heard your parents or your friends talk about it so often you don't even know what's the truth anymore."  
  
He opened his mouth to reply but found he did not have one immediately ready. It was disconcerting.  
  
"I won't let them," he said on an impulse. She looked up quizzically and he explained, "I won't let them burn you at the stake. I won't let a handful of ignorant Muggles hurt you."  
  
She looked deeply skeptical. "Not to be rude, but...what would you do to stop them?"  
  
He knew it was an accurate assessment, knew what this girl saw. A gawky, gangly boy, too pale and tall and skinny for his own good. Fat lot of good he'd do against a mob of angry Muggles, even with his wand at his side. But he was sure to be a Slytherin, after all. And he found he was developing an absurd sort of fondness for this strange girl. He gritted his teeth.  
  
"I'll think of something. I promise you that."  
  
He was an odd sort of Slytherin, in that he kept his promises.


End file.
